If you're new here, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed or "like" me on Facebook. I say the word 'vagina' a lot. If vaginas scare you, run for your life.

Dear Diary,

On Saturday I competed in my second bikini competition. I know many people think it’s vain and narcissistic…well, DUH! It totally is.

However, getting into fighting shape is no small feat. I train long hard hours. I follow a strict diet. And I attend classes to learn how to pose on the stage.

My focus is my butt and my legs. Gotta get those judges to notice mine as compared to those of the other competitors.

For the past several months, I have run more stairs and hills than Rocky Balboa.

My butt is perpetually sore, and I haven’t been able to bend over to tie my shoes since January without letting out a grunt. Not a cute little, “Oh…ouch…teehee” grunt. This is more of a gorilla grunt.

People will make comments like, “Oh it’s not fun getting old.”
This has nothing to do with my age. Feel my butt! Go ahead, feel it!
…I don’t actually tell people to feel my butt…that would be weird…
…although, I think I may have said it to my hairdresser. And I think she did feel it…or was that someone else?
…Well, someone felt my ass after I told them to. Naomi was that you?

So Saturday I competed in a National level show: Hurray!

I came in second: Hurray!

There were only three ladies in my category: I suck.

Oh, I know everyone keeps saying, “Be proud, at least you got up on that stage!”
Yes, well, as my daughter, who is a competitive dancer, pointed out, “Second place just means you were the first to lose.”

So yeah. Fricken second place. Yeehaw.

Oh, I could be all warm and fuzzy, and say, that the girl who won first deserved to win. And maybe she did. But my butt…hello! Quarters could be bounced off of it. Not so much hers. But whatever. I don’t want to sound like a bad sport. (I’m saving that for another post entirely.)

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